A Revolutionary and a Bourgoise
by Teamo-Seto
Summary: Drabbles about my favourite crack pairing: Cosette and Enjolras. Ideas accepted. Enjoy!
1. I wanted to meet you

A.N/ I decided to write a little more. I like this pairing, so this will be a beginning of a set of stories. The first two ficlets will be linked, and then I will take ideas for ficlets and drabbles after. I have a few of my own, but with personalities like Enjolras' and Cosette's, I guess anything is possible. I try to make them semi-canon but they can be whatever you suggest.

I don't know if this is completely musical or novel. I haven't read the novel yet, so I guess it's a mix of both. I don't like everything happening during one day. I like it a little more drawn out. If such as a thing as Cosette/Enjolras could exist, I would imagine that a man like Enjolras would need time to think about his feelings and decide what to do.

So here it is. ENJOY! :D

* * *

I wanted to meet you so badly.

I heard Marius speak of you that night at the ABC Cafe, and every moment possible after that. The others laughed at him for his lovesick dreams, and I wanted him to focus on what we were doing. There was a revolution to fight, after all. If it succeeded, our country would be free, and the colours of the world would be brighter in the passing days. There, hew would be free to love and enjoy all the pleasures that life had to offer in a better, more glorious France.

Not that I wasn't a lovesick fool of my own. I was in love with my country, my Patria, my France. She was my mother, my sister, my friend, my mistress. She was the only one that I had willingly let into my heart. But I must admit that in the greatest pits of despair that I felt when I was trying to overcome an obstacle in the fight for Patria, I wondered what it would be like to fall in love with a real woman. Women tried to seduce me frequently, but I ignored them. Patria was my love.

The moment that changed was when I caught that glimpse of you in the square just before I left. I saw the flash of blonde hair, the sweet gentle blue eyes, and the soft smile that made my heart beat a little quicker just by looking at it. I didn't know who you were, but the moment Marius started talking to me about his beloved Cosette, I knew that it was you. You were his angel, his light, the girl that he fell deeply in love with.

I hated him for it.

I never got to meet you or talk to you. I heard the stories that Marius told and no matter how horribly my heart wanted me to deny it, I wanted to meet you. I felt such turmoil when it came to you. My heart and soul belonged to Patria, every ounce of my being agreed with that. I would give my life for her, lay down everything that I have ever wanted and believed if it meant that it would help her. My love for her was a wildfire that fought to consume me, and I let it gladly. It changed my life and gave me purpose.

That was why I wanted to help her, help Patria and all within her. All I had was an idea, and I found people that shared it. With enough people behind an idea, there is exponential power to change the world.

But then came you, Cosette. I knew of love at first sight, had read about it in hopeless romantic novels that people don't know I own, let alone read. When you came into my mind, I would pull out one of those novels from a crate under my bed and read through them, comparing the feelings they had to the feelings I had. I eventually understood that with one look and with Marius' description, I had hopelessly fallen in love with you. But this wasn't the love that I have known with Patria. My love for you was no raging inferno, for it was softer and sweeter. It did not make my heart pound in my chest nor my body sweat, but it made my heart flutter and my hands tremble. It was like swimming in a deep pond. My love for Patria was where I took the jump in deep to the bottom, but the strange feelings I have for you was where I clawed to the surface and felt the air fill my lungs. A plunge and relief, those were the comparisons of the women that filled my mind.

I saw you when I stood on the edge of the barricade. I felt eyes drilling into me, although you were on the other side of the square, and when I saw that flash of golden hair on the other side, I knew. Something in my heart stirred and I felt gooseflesh dance up my arms. I tried to keep calm, keep the smile on my face that the others needed to see to keep fighting, but the moment we made eye contact across the square, I could feel the world turn. Everything changed.

I would almost give up this fight for you, Cosette. I would lay down my rifle, climb down the barricade and run to you. I would only wish that you would let me embrace you, let me take comfort in your arms. I wish I could be more to you than just a glimpse across the square, a fleeting memory. Perhaps I could be a friend.

I am no lovesick dreamer other than for the future of France. I know there is no hope for us, that you belong to Marius as he belongs to you. I belong to Patria, and there is little room in my wretched heart for anything else.

You started to move closer, your thin body moving across the square, but the man beside you, your father held you back. From the top of the barricade, I mouthed, _I am Enjolras._ From across the square, you looked at me, smiled and mouthed back something that looked like _I am Cosette. _That was enough for me, and I could feel a smile. I had never smiled like that before. I could feel my soul light up, and the spirit of the rebellion flared inside me. If there were such people as you in this world, no matter what the class, there was certainly reason to fight for a better world, so that everyone could have a chance to experience such beauty.

You have no idea how much I owe you for your presence by the barricade before the battle. I wanted to meet you so badly. I never did. But at least I got a look and a smile. That is enough before I die.


	2. I've seen your face before

This is connected to the previous chapter. That was Enjolras. This is Cosette.

* * *

I've seen your face before.

Papa took me out for a walk around town before that horrible night. It was quick, and he seemed anxious to get home, tugging on my arm the entire way. I knew that my Marius was out tonight fighting, but I wanted to know where. Somehow, I asked Papa to take me to the barricade. We walked quickly past the Rue de Vilette, and I saw the pile of furniture, bound together with rope into an almost impassable wall. I saw the flags waving, heard the men cheering, and smelt the gunpowder in the air. But most of all, I could feel the excitement. It thrummed through the air, an almost tangible force that made my hair on my neck stand on end and sent a shiver down my spine. We stood in an alley and watched the men you fought with preparing for battle.

"Will they win, Papa?" I remember asking. He told me later that I was uncharacteristically squeezing his arm tightly, my eyes riveted to the scene before me.

"I am not sure, Cosette." He replied. "If the people of Paris rise to assist them, perhaps they will. But on their own against the National Guard?" A sad breath trickled past his lips. "God help them."

It was then that I saw you. You stood on top of the barricade, wearing that absurd red vest with the gold buttons. There were men swarming around you, talking to you in passionate voices that I could not understand. You looked so calm and focused, as though you knew exactly what you were doing. You had a smile on your face, your brown hair tossing in the wind, a smoking musket in your hand. I stared at you, mesmerized. Somehow you looked so beautiful, like an angel ready to fly into battle.

I remembered you, the boy from the square with the voice of passion and rebellion. I saw you the day I saw Marius. Oh how my heart fought over you two. I fell in love with Marius on sight, but you were the one that lingers in my mind when I go to sleep. You, revolutionary whose name I do not know. You with your voice of bravery and your intelligent blue eyes and your devotion to your country. You are doing such a brave thing, and I feel honoured somehow that it is our country that you are so devoted to.

You turned to look at me then, and I could swear my heart stopped. Those blue eyes drilled into me, and mine stared into yours. I saw your smile shake a little, and I wondered if you were scared of me. You kept talking to the others at your barricade, but you were smiling at me. The great revolutionary leader was smiling at _me!_ I thought my very heart would burst. For a few minutes, I thought not of my Marius, or my Papa. I thought only of the boy in the red vest.

I started to run across the square towards the barricade. I wanted to meet you, talk to you. I wanted to know your name, what you were like, why you were fighting, were you prepared to die. There were so many questions running through my head, and Papa pulled me back. "Cosette, what are you thinking?" He said, his voice shaking. "You will die if you approach!"

I let him pull me back and looked back into your eyes. I saw you mouth from across the square, _I am Enjolras_. Enjolras. What a beautiful name. The image of a vengeful angel danced again into my mind, and the name fit perfectly. I smiled back and mouthed, _I am Cosette. _The smile that lit up your face will always stay in my mind. It was equally as beautiful as the one who owned it.

I will never forget the boy at the barricade. I will never forget your name, your face, the sound of your voice crying out for justice. Even as I walked back home, I thought of you, and although I have seen your face before, I pray that it will not be the last.


	3. My Children

I don't think there will be few happy endings for Cosette and Enjolras. There is no happily every after for them. But I can make sure that he stays in her life.

* * *

Marius and I were blessed with a beautiful set of twins, a boy and a girl. They both had curly brown hair, bright smiles, and big blue eyes. They were honestly the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life.

They were born on June 6th, Barricade Day. My poor Marius saw it as both a blessing and a curse. The children would tug at his arm, begging him to play with them, but he would sit in the study, reading and staring into space. I have my own grief, but I hide from the children better than my beloved does. When the children get older, I will tell them about the revolution, and how their father was the only survivor. I wonder how they will react. Maybe they will think him a fool, or maybe they will be proud of him, as I am.

Marius and I made a little deal when I became pregnant. He would get to name the baby if it was a girl, and I would get to name it if it was a boy. As we got both, we compromised.

He named our little girl Eponine Pontmercy, after his best friend who died on the barricade after delivering a letter to me. Apparently, she had been in love with him. I didn't mind at all, for any friend of Marius' was a friend of mine. Our little girl was quiet, sweet and devoted to her father. She followed him everywhere, hanging his every word and batting her big eyes at him. She had him wrapped around her little finger, and he bought for her whatever she wished. Eponine will be so beautiful when she is older, and she has promised that she will help those in need, to get them off the streets and into better lives. She has her father's heart.

Our son, on the other hand, was closer to me. I named him after someone I had loved from the revolution, a friend of Marius'. I didn't tell Marius that I had been in love with his son's namesake. Marius already felt awkward about the name, but he didn't object. My son will sit on my lap and listen to me tell stories about knights and dragons, but he prefers to hear stories of battles and wrongs being righted. I thought he would be quiet, but my son was adventurous, climbing trees, fighting play battles with his friends, and trying to read those big books in our library about politics and history. He is only four and he already wants to go to university. He said that he wants to make the world a better place, to help those who are in need, and to get rid of all the evil in the world like the knights and heroes in the stories. I think my son took after his namesake well, and I believe that even in death, he would be proud.

My son's name, after all, is Enjolras Pontmercy.


	4. The Reason

The reason I ran into Marius was because I was watching someone else.

I saw the man with the bright red vest, speaking his words of passion, looking more beautiful than anything I had ever seen in my entire life. His brown hair tossed in the wind, his bright blue eyes sparkled with passion and enthusiasm. He spoke with bravery and power, speaking of a glorious new future that all would delight in. He looked well off and looked incredibly intelligent, with a bright personality and genuine caring for all those below him. Simply looking at him made my heart tremble.

I was watching him walk away, wondering if I should follow him and talk to him. I wondered what it would be like to talk to him, to ask him about himself and his plans. Would he ignore me and stride forward, or would he find the time to speak to me? It was in my steps to follow him and in my indecision that I ran into Marius. I almost completely forgot the revolutionary the moment I looked into Marius' eyes. Almost.

Sometimes when I am about to go to bed, curling up next to my Marius, I wonder what would have happened if I had run after the boy in the red vest.

**What do you think would happened if she had gone with Enjolras? Review and tell me what you think!**


	5. The Vest

What I would give to wear Enjolras' vest. *sighs in pleasure* Or better yet, cuddle the vest with Enjolras IN it. *runs off to find the Enjolras and other Les Mis people that I don't own at all*

* * *

I let her wear my vest once.

She had asked me for so long, holding the fabric in her hands while I wore it and looking up at me with her big blue eyes. I don't understand why she revered it so much. It was simply a vest after all. I said no for some strange reason. I liked my vest. It was my own symbol for the revolution and I was instantly recognized when I wore it. I coudn't imagine it on her. It was a month of her pleading until I finally agreed. It was a bright June day, and she was wearing a simple white dress, her golden hair tumbling down her back, her blue eyes sparkling. She had asked me softly, "May I please?"

I paused to think about it, and she hung her head. The moment I put my red revolutionary's vest into her hands, she stared at it in disbelief, looking up at me in shock. She had asked long enough, and I cannot forever refuse that girl. "You can put it on, Cosette." I told her.

She kissed me on the cheek in response and giggled like a little girl as she thanked me. I felt a little smile tweak my face as she turned it over in her hands, looking at all the fine stitches and rubbing the buttons until they shined. She even brought it up to her nose and inhaled. I wonder what she smelled. I wonder if she still idolizes it like she did then. After a few minutes of admiring, she finally slipped the vest on and did up the gold buttons, smoothing the sides down. "What do you think, Enjolras?" She asked, spinning around and striking a fighting pose.

My heart twisted. She looked so vibrant and strong, like she could take on whatever the world threw at her. She was my Boadicea, my warrior queen, fighting all injustice and pain. In that vest, she could have been the icon, the symbol of our revolution. To protect the good in this world for the women, children and other unfortunate souls. But the red of the vest on the white of the dress...it looked like blood. The blood of angry men, of the revolution. Blood on Cosette. The very thought sent shivers down my spine, and wrapped claws of fear around my heart. Never. I could never see her wounded. Never. She would be no martyr, fighting a battle that we could possibly lose.

Then I felt her arms holding me close, rubbing my back as I shook and muttered senseless things under my breath. My angel, pulling me down from that dark place and bringing me back to the light. I felt sweat beading at my hairline as she made soothing noises and held me tight., I hugged her back, clutching the vest with a death grip. We stayed like that for several minutes as I fought away the images of a dying Cosette on the barricade, of others dying beside her, and I standing alone among the dead. When we parted, I shook my head at the vest. Looking down at it, she slipped it off and handed it back to me. A light kiss was pressed to my lips and she whispered, "Thank you, Enjolras. It looks better on you anyways."

I never let anyone else wear that vest again. The blood of angry men would be spilt and worn on me alone. No one else should have to bear it.


	6. Focus and Books

And now, for something somewhat humorous...

* * *

Cosette taps her boot against the floor impatiently, putting down her embroidery. Enjolras sits in the same chair he has sat in for five hours, reading a heavy tome of politics and taking down notes on a piece of paper beside him. They were going to leave an hour ago. She knows how absorbed he can get into his beloved books, especially when he is planning a speech, but this is too much. She finally voices a complaint.

"Enjolras, if we are going to leave, we should go now."

She is met with silence.

"Enjolras, put the book down."

There is a mumbled "no."

"Enjolras, put the book down."

"No."

"Enjolras, put the book down."

She tries not to sound as impatient as she feels.

His forehead furrows but his eyes stay on the book. "NO."

"Enjolras, please put the book down so we can go enjoy the picnic lunch you promised me."

He slams the book closed on his lap and stares intently at her.

She makes puppy eyes at him, pouting a little.

"God help me, Cosette! I am almost done this book and it is giving me ideas for my speeches. There are few people joining our cause, and this may prompt more to spring forward and fight for the freedom of France! My darling, pray wait ten more minutes and then I shall be done and we can go out."

She pouts again and returns to her embroidery.

"As you wish."

He picks up the book again and mumbles to himself about flags and martyrs.

Thirty minutes pass. Enjolras is still not done the book. He has that drilling focus in his eyes again and Cosette knows that if she doesn't interrupt, he will sit there all day with that stupid book.

She really wants to throw that book into the fire. Perhaps him with it. Maybe that will wake him up.

He makes no move to put the book down as she makes an annoyed noise in her throat.

Cosette walks over, and tugs the book a little. "PLEASE, darling Apollo, put the book down."

Enjolras lowers the book a few inches and glares at her. She immediately leans forward and kisses him tenderly on the lips. She pulls back as soon as he starts to respond.

He gapes at her.

She smiles cheekily at him.

"Will you put the book down now please?"

"Yes."

It's a gasp. His eyes sparkle with the fire that she normally sees when he reads out his speeches, and he puts the book on the arm of the chair.

She leans forward again, and he kisses her back just as gently, pulling her onto his lap. The book slips off the chair, splaying out on the floor, and for the first time in Enjolras' memory, one of his precious books lays forgotten on the floor for a beautiful woman.


	7. Awkward Question

Oh, Cosette, Cosette. The things you ask because you don't know. We are so similar :)

* * *

"Why do men spank girls?" Cosette asked abruptly while they were eating breakfast.

Enjolras nearly spat out his tea and started choking on it. Cosette waited until he got himself under control and handed him a napkin. After taking a few deep breaths, he gaped at her and said in a horrified tone, "What?"

She repeated her question. "Why do men spank girls? I see them do it at the ABC Cafe sometimes, and when I'm walking home at night by the Rue Amor. Why do they do that?"

"You walk by the Rue Amor to get home?" Enjolras shook his head. "It's not safe there, Cosette. The men who go there might expect something from you that you wont give."

"Don't avoid the question, Enjolras." She frowned, which looked somewhat comical on her sweet face.

"How did that suddenly pop into your head?" Enjolras asked curiously, taking a bite of egg.

"I was remembering it and I remembered that some of the women enjoy it." She said, biting her toast and watching him.

Enjolras nodded and sipped his tea. "Some do."

"So why don't you do that to me?" She asked calmly, looking him straight in the eye.

This time Enjolras DID spit out his tea. Luckily, he missed Cosette and simply spat it onto his eggs. He coughed and stared at her with somewhat bloodshot eyes. "Do you WANT me to spank you?" He gasped.

"I don't know." She said softly, looking as innocent as an angel. "Now will you answer my question?"

He moved his food to the side and rubbed his temples. This was a conversation that he never thought he would have with anyone. With an inhale, he said, "It's a mixture of pride and possession. Do you notice how women act when they get a new dress that they absolutely adore?"

"They flaunt it around and talk about how wonderful it is." Cosette replied calmly, resting her chin on her hands.

"Yes. Men do that as well when they are with girls they love." Enjolras said with a smile. "They take her everywhere with them, they hold her hand or put their arm around her shoulder, kiss her cheek, and when she's gone, they talk about how absolutely wonderful she is."

"Those actions sound familiar." She smiled at him knowingly and he smiled back at her. "But how does that apply to spanking?"

He inhaled again and said, "Some men, often not raised with etiquette, show their possession of a woman by spanking her. It isn't as respectful in higher levels of society, unless only done in the privacy of the bedroom. Touching anywhere around a woman's chest or bottom isn't seen as respectful. But some women like it."

"Ah, thank you." Cosette smiled. "You make it sound so proper and scientific."

"I beg of you, please don't ask me questions like that again, Cosette." He implored, returning to his eggs.

"As you wish." She said, sipping her tea.

An awkward silence followed as they finished their meal and started to tidy up. As Enjolras walked past Cosette, he jumped as he felt a small hand slap him across his derriere. He whipped around to see Cosette smiling at him. His heart started pounding and he gasped out, "Why?"

"Because I can." She laughed. "You said nothing about women spanking men."

She turned to wash dishes and Enjolras' palm met his face. He was going to have to explain a few things to this innocent girl, including things he barely knew about, nevermind had done. He sighed through his fingers. If talking about spanking was this difficult, he could barely imagine how the sex talk would be carried out.


	8. Telling Les Amis and Marius

Well, happy and sad at the same time. I write a horrible Grantaire :P

* * *

When Enjolras finally told his friends that a girl was moving in with him as a roommate, nothing more, Les Amis de l'ABC were surprised. They were even more shocked that it was Cosette. But he was met with cheers and laughter.

"My friend, we believed that you were not aware of the existence on earth of the creature called woman." Courfeyrac joked, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder. "But congratulations on the final realization."

Enjolras suddenly found a bottle of whiskey shoved in his face. He took a swig and a clap on the back made him spit it out and nearly knocked him over in the process. "Congratulations, Apollo." Grantaire slurred, picking up his friend from the floor and rubbing his hair. "Or should I say, Don Juan?"

Soon, Enjolras was surrounded by the entire group that offered him congratulations, tips on how to deal with girls, and sexual innuendos that made him want to slap the looks off their faces. But they didn't think it strange to live with a girl and not marry her. They accepted it wholeheartedly, just as these motley band had accepted him. Glee filled his heart and he started to join in the merriment, when he realized that one person was missing. Enjolras looked up and saw Marius standing in the corner, his head hanging a little as he gazed out the window. Enjolras felt his heart break a little. After all, Cosette had been in love with Marius before, and he with her. Enjolras had stumbled in when Cosette had felt down, and now Marius had lost her. The revolutionary stepped away from his friends and joined the curly haired boy.

"I guess I'm a horrible friend." Marius whispered, looking out the window.

"What do you mean?" Enjolras asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I mean that I wish more than anything that I could have her back, to be in your position right now." Marius said, looking away. "I still love her, no matter what."

"I am a worse friend than you, Pontmercy." Enjolras said, putting his hand on the other boy's shoulder. "I took her away from you in the first place."

"No, you didn't." Marius said, looking back at his friend. "It was her choice, and I will live by that choice. I love her, and I want her to be happy, no matter how much it kills me to do so."

Enjolras pulled Marius into a chair and handed him the bottle that had been shoved in his face early by Grantaire. Marius took a hearty swig and put it down. Enjolras whispered, "She is a wonderful girl, your Cosette. She still loves you." Marius looked up in shock, and Enjolras added, "She loves both of us equally. At least, that's what she told me."

"Then what..."

"Marius, I am not going to marry Cosette. We will have no happily ever after. Even if I survive this revolution, I will be jailed for treason. She does not deserve a prisoner for a husband." Enjolras said this calmly, understanding every facet of the situation. "She told me that she loves me, and that she still loves you. She told me that she believed that she had very little time with me, so she wants to spend it as close to me as possible."

Marius stared in shock, his big brown eyes wide, and said, "So...what does that mean?"

"That means, Marius Pontmercy, if I die on the barricade, you have my blessing. She shares both of us in her heart like I do for Patria and for her. If she loses one, she will grieve but still treasure the other." Enjolras put his arm around the other boy. "I love her with all my heart. If I am unable to do stay on this world to do that, keep her happy please."

"Enjolras, you won't die." Marius said angrily.

"Yes I will, Marius." Enjolras said sharply. "You know that I will readily give my life fighting for Patria, whether we win or fail. I would give everything for my country. I could not stand to live and have failed her."

"By her you mean both France and Cosette." Marius said calmly, and Enjolras hung his head with a nod. "You are a strange man, Enjolras."

"Look who's talking." Enjolras smirked. But then his face went serious and said, "So, is it alright if Cosette comes to live with me?"

Marius raised his hands in surrender. "You had to go through her father to get permission. If he is convinced that you are good for Cosette and that you will not hurt her, I am content." He blushed and said, "Just let me come visit every now and then?"

"Of course." Enjolras laughed.

"So how was it? Talking to her father, I mean." Marius asked curiously.

Enjolras swallowed, rubbed his neck, and said seriously, "That was the most terrifying thing I have done in my life."

"It can't have been that bad!" Marius exclaimed.

Enjolras gave him a look. "It. Was. Terrifying."

Grantaire had sat beside them at this point and laughed. "What I would give to have seen you panicked like that."

The three laughed and Grantaire slapped the other two on the back. "Come on, lads. Let's get drunk and celebrate. Drinks are on me, just this once."

The two looked at each other, and for once, both agreed to get wasted out of their minds. They grabbed whiskey bottles and sang at the top of their lungs all night long, jumping around tables, fighting with each other and laughing so loud that they grew hoarse.

Cosette was not pleased when Enjolras came home drunk as a skunk. He got yelled at for a few minutes, with lots of finger wagging and a look in Cosette's eyes that made him both laugh and feel ashamed at the same time. That displeasure instantly faded when he told her that Marius was okay with the two of them living together. She did a little happy dance and Enjolras spun her in circles around his, or rather THEIR, kitchen. He hugged her close after and pressed a kiss to her soft blonde hair. For however long Enjolras had in this world, Cosette was his, and NOTHING in this world would take her away from him.


	9. Fears - 1

I have certainly taken my vacation from writing on this story. My apologies. This one will be in four parts, and it reflects my personal view that Cosette, being raised in a very sheltered life, is a complete and total wuss like I am.

* * *

Enjolras and Cosette did sleep in the same room, but not in the same bed. That was one of the few conditions that her father had laid down when she moved in with Enjolras, not that Enjolras would try and take advantage of her anyways. They slept in two single beds with a few feet of space between each other. Sometimes they would move the beds close together and Enjolras would sling his arm over Cosette as they slept. Then they would move the beds back to their original place in the morning. Sometimes, Enjolras wished that they shared a bed so he could curl up next to her. He slept fitfully some nights, plans for his revolution keeping his brain awake. Then he would get up, light a candle and start writing notes for a speech or battle plan. However, after a few minutes of this, he would hear Cosette calling him and he would return to bed. That was routine, but he wished he could sleep next to her and perhaps sleep the entire night away in peaceful, uninterrupted solitude.

It was during one of these fitful nights that Enjolras realized that Cosette was whimpering in her sleep. He rolled over and saw her beautiful face streaked with tears as she tossed in her sleep. Her whimpered escalated into screams and he raced over to her bed. Quickly, he woke her up and held her face in his hands. "Are you alright, my love?" He whispered softly, running his fingers through her blonde hair.

He soon found her arms wrapped around him tightly. She cried into his shoulder and he gently rubbed her back, unsure of what to do with a sobbing girl. "I don't like the dark." She whispered at last, holding him close and gasping away her tears. "I don't know why, but I always have been. It scares me, crushes me, hides things that could hurt me."

He hugged her for a few minutes, rose, and lit a candle on the other side of the room. "Well, it will not be totally dark, Cosette." He sat down on her bed and smiled at her. "Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, but only when someone remembers to turn on the light."

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you." She whispered. Just as he was about to get up, she forcefully tugged him into her bed. Enjolras' eyes widened in shock and she whispered, "Just for tonight. Until the nightmares go away. Please?"

As he was faced with the dreaded puppy eyes that she had mastered so easily, any resolve he had to leave melted away. With a soft sigh, he kissed her forehead. He could never refuse her. "As you wish, my darling." He crawled under the covers and she curled up next to him with a happy sigh. It felt wonderful to have her so close to him, and Enjolras drifted off to sleep within an instant.

He didn't wake up again until morning. Neither did Cosette have nightmares. But ever since, no matter how uncomfortable it was for him, they kept a lit candle in the room so Cosette's fear of the dark would go away for the night.


	10. Fears - 2

Part 2/4 of the Fear Drabbles

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Cosette didn't like walking from the ABC Cafe to the house that she shared with Enjolras by herself. In fact, it downright terrified her. It was only a block away, but most of the times that she had to walk, it was night and there were people in the dark that worried her. She was afraid of a lot of things, and being grabbed by someone in the dark was one of them. Enjolras would often follow her within the hour, but she still wished that she could walk home with him. It would make her feel a lot safer.

It was on one of these walks that one of her greatest fears was made reality. She was walking home one night and found herself pulled into an alley with a knife held to her throat. A dirty hand was clamped over her mouth and a voice growled at her, "Give me all your money, bitch."

There were giggles behind her, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw several ladies of the night rubbing the arm of the man who held her. "Yes, all the money you've got, you bourgoise two-penny thing, so we can have _lots_ of fun tonight." A woman cooed, making a horrendously obsence gesture towards the man. The other ladies giggled and added their voices of agreement in sickly sweet tones. The man chuckled with them.

Cosette felt her heart rise into her throat. She had little money with her, only a few sous that she kept in her pocket. She was sure they were going to kill her after she gave them what little coinage she had. When her hand paused mid-movement, the knife was pressed tighter to her throat and she felt it cut her a bit. The blood started to drip down, and it was all she could to do to not start screaming as loud as she could. Even so, she made desperate, scared noises through the man's hand as she tried to rip it off her face with the hand that was not reaching for her money. The knife bit into her a little more and the man hissed, "Keep fighting me, honey, and it will be the last thing that you ever do."

Then, the hysteria in Cosette rose to its peak, and as she began to scream her lungs out, much to the man's anger, she saw a red vest appear around the corner. She screamed again behind the hand, and Enjolras turned to stare at them. "Cosette!" He yelled, brandishing his folder full of heavy papers and smashing the man in the face with it. Cosette found herself thrown to the side and she watched her revolutionary, with his folder and his fists, beat the hell from the mugger that was trying to rob her. Cosette stared as Enjolras knocked him out and shooed the women away. "Don't you _ever_ come near her again!" He roared after them, his face flushed and glistening in the moonlight. His hands were still curled into fists that had blood spotted on the knuckles. Cosette gasped a little, her sight blurry from tears of fright, and she soon found Enjolras kneeling in front of her. "Are you alright, Cosette?" He said in a worried tone of voice, taking her hand and squeezing it.

She let out a sob and her other hand went to her throat, which was still bleeding from the cut. "Th-they al-al-almost k-k-killed m-me!" She gasped, crying so hard she could barely breathe.

Enjolras saw the cut on her throat and the bruises rising on her arm from the man's rough grip. His eyes glowed with rage and he carefully picked Cosette up in a cradle hold. He started walking down the street, holding her as gently as a newborn baby. He kissed her cheek and he whispered, "I am taking you straight home, you understand?"

"D-don't m-m-make me w-walk h-home al-alone ag-gain, p-please!" She sobbed, clutching his shirt tightly. He shifted her weight as he unlocked and opened the door to the flat that they shared. He sat her down on her bed, and started to get some supplies to clean the cut on her neck. When he turned back to look at her, her big blue eyes were still staring at him and she whispered, "Please."

Enjolras' face turned sad and he kissed her forehead gently. "Never again, darling. I'll walk with you or I'll get one of the other students too. I promise."

Her heart calmed down and she smiled at him through the tears as he began to clean the cut on her neck. "Thank you." She said softly, squeezing his hand. "I always feel safer when I'm with you."


	11. Fears - 3

Part 3/4 of the Fear Drabbles

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"ENJOLRAS!"

A scream from the kitchen was all that is needed to send me from writing speeches and pamphlets to racing through the flat, my heart pounding in my chest, to aid my lady. I pushed open the doors, looked around, and witnessed a very comical sight. My Cosette standing on a chair, grasping her skirts with a look of sheer panic on her face, as a mouse sits on the floor, nibbling a crust of bread. I could barely hold in my laughter. "A scream like a banshee for a_ mouse_, Cosette?" I choked out, keeping a straight face.

The look in her eyes stopped my laughter. She was absolutely petrified. She stared at me and yelled, "KILL IT!"

I shooed the mouse out with a broom, and cleared out the mouse-hole in the wall. A total of ten mice were shown to the door, with half a loaf of stale bread tossed out for them to eat. I felt no need to kill the mice, as they had given me a fair amount of amusement. They would not freeze outside. It was summer. They would live. I did need to figure out how they entered the house, however. My heart could not bear another scream such as that again, and I am sure that the bread that the culprit had been caught eating was from the cupboards. I made plans to take some boards and close up the mouse-hole after I finished my work.

I turned around to find Cosette standing behind me, a grin on her face. "Thank you." She said softly, tears of joy glittering in her eyes.

"Twas my pleasure, my lady." I laughed. "I would face a million of such vermin for you."

With that, she pulled me close and kissed me tenderly. "Thank you," She breathed, running her fingers through my hair, and kissing me again. I kissed her back just as hard, holding her tight as long as I could. I had never felt a kiss such as the one that she gave me. It was passionate, but gentle, as if she poured her gratitude and joy into that simple contact. If aiding her in her time of need was all that was required for sweet kisses such as that, I would put off closing that mouse-hole for a while. I followed her out of the kitchen into the living room, with her holding my hand with a joyful smile on her face. I rubbed my lips with a free hand and I muttered in joy, "Thank GOD for mice."


	12. Fears - 4

Holy crap, people actually LIKE this story! Well, thank you for making me hustle with my updates. I did get an idea from Allanna Stone that I am going to use, so if you have any ideas, feel free to share! But here is part 4/4 of the Fear Drabbles. The end was kind of thrown together, so feel free to yell at me for it.

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Enjolras had learned very quickly that Cosette had many fears. In particular, she was afraid of the dark, robbers and mice. Cosette learned very quickly that Enjolras had very few fears. In fact, she was sure that her revolutionary was made of stone, with absolutely no weaknesses. However, one winter night, she realized that even solid stone has its cracks.

Enjolras' landlord asked if the students who lived under his roof could clean out and fix up the attic so it could be converted into another room. The boys, needing something to do, happily obliged. Cosette sat in the sitting room of her flat, listening to the boys working on the floor above hers. She was curled up by the fire, doing some embroidery and humming a song that she had heard people sing in the street. Something about lovely ladies. Her only plan was to finish this line of embroidery and then make some sandwiches for the men. She listening to the creaking upstairs, and smiled to herself. She could get used to things like this.

But a series of frightened shouts startled her from what she was doing. In particular, a voice that stuck out amongst the bedlam was her own Enjolras', screaming "GET THAT BLOODY THING AWAY FROM ME!"

Dropping her embroidery, she ran down the hallway, hiked up her skirts in a very unladylike fashion (thank goodness she was only wearing a simple dress, the hoops would never have fit through the attic entranceway), and climbed up the ladder as quick as she could. "What is going on?" She asked, looked around in a worried away. What she saw surprised her.

Grantaire and Combeferre were doubled over in a corner laughing so hard they were crying. Joly was rubbing his arms, muttering about rabies and lice, and Courfeyrac was crossing himself. The other three men were standing in the middle of the room, staring at the far left corner where a bed would be. And the crowning glory of the confusion was that her brave, calm Enjolras was reduced to a quivering ball of expletives and screams in the corner, staring at the ceiling. She looked up and saw, in the candlelight, a bat hanging from the rafters. A small brown bat that was swinging with the motions of having just landed had caused all this trouble.

Well, that was interesting to learn. Enjolras was afraid of bats.

Cosette climbed up and carefully approached her revolutionary. "Enjolras, are you okay? It's just a bat."

"GET RID OF IT!" He roared, scrambling to his feet and running down the ladder as fast as his legs would carry him, knocking Cosette over in the process.

She looked at Courfeyrac with confusion and in between gasping breaths, he explained, "Some guys at school put an entire nest of them into a closet and locked him in it for hours. Since then...he does this."

"Poor Enjolras!" She gasped. Cosette herself was terrified of mice, and in all honesty, bats looked like flying mice, but as the other men stayed away, she carefully moved past the bat to open the small window. It would fly out that night, and she would close it after the bat had left. After that, she headed back downstairs to calm down her revolutionary. _"I guess everyone has their weak spots."_ She thought. _"Even Enjolras."_

The next day, she came downstairs to the communal breakfast table and told them all that the bat was gone. It had come back during the night, but she shooed it away. Enjolras' response to that was to pick her up, spin her in circles, and kiss her so hard that she couldn't breathe. As the men laughed, she thought mischievously, _"I better find some more bats..."_


	13. Fears- I HAVE A RAGING BONUS

Thank you Mormeril Dark Lady of Insanity for indirectly giving me this idea. Cheers :) So here is a little bonus part to the Fear Drabbles.

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Twin screams. Crashing chairs. A male voice yelling some extremely vulgar curses. A female voice screaming Bible verses about shunning evil. It was a huge commotion that sent a very confused and hungover Grantaire to Cosette and Enjolras' flat. It was too early for this. When he opened the door, though, he stared for a few minutes, and then did what he always did when he saw the two overreacting: he ignored his throbbing headache and doubled over laughing.

Enjolras had told him the story of how he learned that Cosette was terrified of mice. He also had alluded to the fact that he hadn't closed the mousehole so he could save Cosette from the mice again. Apparently she had found out, as she was sitting on the highest part of Enjolras' desk, crying, reciting the Lord's Prayer, and using a broom to manically hit the floor where a few mice were gathering. She was definitely terrified to the point of phobic. He felt like a horrible person for laughing, but he couldn't stop.

Apparently, Cosette had had similar thoughts with Enjolras. The wide open window suggested that she had lured a bat inside so she could calm Enjolras down. Well, with the kiss he had bestowed on her for getting rid of the first one, no small wonder! Every straight man around that table was jealous of that kiss! So, instead of helping Cosette with her mouse problem, the supposedly rock solid revolutionary was hiding under the table, glaring at the three bats hanging in the rafters and swearing like a sailor at them. You knew it was bad when Enjolras started swearing. His vocabulary was usually much more eloquent. Grantaire was amazed that Cosette was in such hysterics that she wasn't yelling at Enjolras for his swearing.

When Grantaire could breathe again, he walked over to Cosette, gently pried the broom from her hands, and swept the mice out the door as briskly as his still-drunk body could manage. He then lifted Cosette off the desk and hugged her for a second before dragging his Apollo out from under the table. "It's just some _chauve-souris_, Enjy. Calm down."

"You know what I'm like with those little devil things! Those..." He let out a five minute string of expletives that Cosette finally noticed but only winced as she tried to calm down.

"So, we have learned something today." Grantaire put his hands on their shoulders. "Even if something nice happens after someone is afraid, you shouldn't do it. So you better close that mousehole, Enjy, and you should keep the window shut, Cosette."

Other people would have gotten into an argument over the reasoning for cuing phobias. The two would probably discuss their reasoning later after they could think clearly, but they never fought. They just accepted that they were in the wrong, apologized, and moved onward. Cosette hugged Enjolras tightly, wiping her tears in his shirt, and Grantaire took his leave. That was done with. Now he hoped Joly had a hangover cure or something that would stop the military drum in his head.


	14. Dancing

Sorry for not posting for a while. My creative buzz is running dry. This will be quite out of character for Enjolras. Just saying. But hopefully, you shall enjoy.

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Enjolras swallowed and rubbed his hands against his slacks, wondering what had possessed a revolutionary that fought the upper classes to come to a bourgoise social event. Oh, that's right. Cosette had somehow received invitations to it (he suspected Joly) and begged him to take her to it. It had been and would always be true: he could never refuse her. So here we was, standing awkwardly in formal attire, waiting for Cosette to return from nature's call. God, he could just shoot himself.

"Enjolras!" He turned and saw Cosette walking towards him, a wide smile on her face. Once again, he was taken by surprise as he looked at her. She was wearing a smoky blue dress with ribbons at the sleeves and a simple lace collar. Pearl earrings sat in her ears, and a gold necklace he had never seen before glimmered in the candlelight from around her neck. Her hair hung in wide gold curls that framed her sweet face. A little rouge was on her cheeks and lips, but no other makeup. It was simple, but she still looked breathtakingly beautiful. He strode forward as she rushed to meet him. She clasped his hands and said, "Isn't this just grand?"

He kissed her hand tenderly and smiled at her joy. "Grand isn't the word I would use, but yes, this is enjoyable." He led her back onto the dance floor and they joined in the waltz. He held her close and let himself relax a bit, enjoying the rhythm of the dance. She rested her head against his chest and squeezed his hand. "What is it, my love?" He asked softly.

"I still can't believe I'm here. This is wonderful." Her eyes took in everything and Enjolras couldn't help but smile. "I feel so free." As an afterthought, she added, "I also didn't know that you were such a good dancer."

"I try. But in all honesty, I would rather not be here." He said, looking around. "Upper class people don't like me. I fight them, remember?"

Cosette smiled into his chest. "Well, they should like you. You are truly wonderful. They don't know what they are missing."

Enjolras moved his hand from her waist and stroked her cheek. She was far too beautiful when she smiled like this. He could put up with this for her, and he ignored a scowl that was sent his way by a police inspector. She looked up at him, beaming, and for once, Enjolras forgot that he was at a party, surrounded by upper class folk with extreme judgement. He only saw Cosette with her big blue eyes filled with joy, fitting close to him like a piece of a puzzle. He felt any seriousness in his face fade, a warm feeling begin in his heart, and he remembered, yet again, why he loved her. Without a care for what others would say, Enjolras bent down and kissed her. Her fingers clutched in his shirt, her eyes fluttered closed, and with his heart soaring with love, he promptly lost himself in her. He didn't hear the couples making oohing noises, or the applause. All he cared about was how her lips felt against his, how her hands gripped onto him, how undeniably warm she was, and how his head was suddenly clear. This was a high that no drug could parallel. When he finally pulled away, gasping for air, Enjolras whispered softly, his heart pounding, "Thank you."

Then he heard the music stop and the dancers clap. He stroked her hair, twisting a strand around his fingers. Cosette smiled. "You want to go home, don't you?"

"Oh God, yes."

Cosette lifted up her skirts a few inches, grabbed his hand, and the two of them ran out into the cool night laughing. He spun her in his arms and kissed her again. "If you do this every time we go dancing, we should do this more often." She giggled, and started laughing when Enjolras' face blanched. "Okay, maybe not."

He smiled, listening to the music from inside, took her hand, and danced with her in the moonlight. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "I will go dancing with you if it makes you happy."

"You always make me happy. You always will."

They danced there in the moonlight for what felt like hours, and despite Enjolras' discomfort with wearing a tuxedo, he was quite content to remain there until dawn if she was with him.


	15. Falling in Love

I wrote this in like 20 minutes. It's short and horrible, I'm pretty sure. But here you go.

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I am falling in love with her.

I can't believe that she could do this to me.

She can spin me around her little finger, and I am quite content to let her do so. I am ready to die for her, but I would give anything to spend forever by her side. In many ways, she is as strong as Patria. Her love is steady and true, as true as Cupid's bolt. When Patria sends me into the depths of despair, Cosette is there to pull me out and save me. For that, I could never thank her enough.

I never thought I could fall in love with a girl like Cosette, but I have. I fell in love with her innocence, her charm, her intelligence, and her beauty. She is the balm after Patria's burn, the birds chirping after the storm. Her smile is worth more than diamonds to me. She gave me another reason to fight, to preserve the good in life like she preserves me.

I am hopelessly in love with her, and even when I die, I will never be able to repay her for the love she has given me.


End file.
